Page 12 of Courtside

Sage exhaled slowly through her nose. “Twenty three.”

His eyes widened. “Average?”

“Yep.”

His eyes dipped down, surveying her body in a way that was calculating. She had to force herself to sit still. “Post?”

“Forward.”

He nodded. Her eyes were drawn to the divot above his upper lip; it was pronounced, almost feminine, so at odds with the dark hair that grew on his face and his sheer mass.

“Rebounds?” He asked.

“Ten.”

“Shooting percentage?”

“Fifty-six percent from the field.”

His brows furrowed, lips pulled into a frown, and he leaned back in his chair, the motion shifting the energy in the small room.

Again, quiet settled over them.

It was Coach Dixon who finally spoke. Leaning forward, he looked at her with obvious confusion. “So why in Heaven’s name didn’t you play college ball?”

It felt like an invisible hand closed around her chest, squeezing and squeezing until her lungs could barely expand enough to take in the air that she needed. Her brain buzzed, a sound filling her ears like the hum of halogen lights, and she dug her fingers into her thighs.

She needed to say something. Hadn’t she gotten good at that? Over and over again, she’d answered the exact same question, ignoring the confusion on people’s faces when they asked her why such a promising athlete wasn’t continuing their career.

But it had been so long, and the words just wouldn’t come, no matter how hard she tried to force her mouth to open. In a moment of desperation, her eyes darted over to David, who watched her with earnest attention that made her feel like he could see right through her.

He obviously saw something in her eyes, because he spoke, his voice soft, possessing a gentleness that hadn’t been there before. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to,” he said, reaching up and pushing a wayward piece of hair off of his forehead before adjusting his hat. “But if playing in college was a choice that was taken away from you, then I’m sorry.” He glanced over at Coach Dixon. “We understand the pain of having that dream stolen.”

It took a monumental amount of self-control to blink away the tears that burned at the corners of her eyes.You’re a grown-ass woman about to cry in a job interview, Sage. Get your shit together.She shoved the emotion down, schooling her expression and straightening her posture, hoping that she was projecting strength.

“Nothing like that,” she finally said, offering a smile that she hoped was confident and reassuring. “I just decided to focus on my studies instead.”

The lie tasted like chalk on her tongue, but it was necessary.

David’s eyes narrowed slightly, like maybe he didn’t believe her, but, with a small shake of his head, he moved on. “Because this job is a program requirement for you, you’ll technically be reporting to your academic advisor. We,” he pointed to Coach Dixon and himself, “will be more like supervisors, in the sense that we will work together on scheduling and your job duties. You’ll officially start with the team once practices begin, but there will of course be travel scheduling, team community service to plan, and some other things that might come up in the preseason. Once things pick up, we’ll be on from October to February. Does that sound alright?”

She nodded, relieved as the knot of tension in her chest loosened a fraction. “That all sounds fine. And will I be traveling with the team?”

“Yes,” David said. “For away games you’ll be taking on some of the equipment manager duties as well, in addition to keeping travel, food, and lodging organized and taking stats.”

She gave another nod, confirming her understanding. She watched as David scratched his jaw, a layer of dark hair there that hadn’t been there when they’d first met. The beard, though still obviously new, looked really fucking good.

Stop it.

“Do you have any questions for us?” David asked, gesturing between himself and Coach Dixon.

She shifted in her seat. She did, actually, have a question, but she wasn’t entirely sure how it was going to be received. “What do you bring as a new coach that’s going to turn this team around? Last year’s record was 10 and 17, so you’ve got a lot of ground to make up.”

“Ah,” David began, once again messing with his hat. He almost looked nervous. “I’m good with players. That’s the main thing I bring. As for the basketball, I’ve got years of experience coaching for different programs under my belt, and can draw from all of that as I get to know my personnel and their particular skill sets. I’d say that my philosophy is to work within a really clear structure, where everyone knows their role.”

She nodded along as he spoke. While the words themselves were assured, she thought she could detect a bit of uncertainty in his tone as he described his plans for the team. Like maybe the ideas were locked in, but he wasn’t sure he could execute them.

“Sounds like you’ll be good for the team,” she said, pushing aside her questions for the moment.

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